


Mark your Soulmate (from a very short list of one)

by Kathee_HDS



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Longing, M/M, Pining, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, ineffable husbands, oblivious idiots, two-sided longing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-19 22:45:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19365325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kathee_HDS/pseuds/Kathee_HDS
Summary: The day after the body swap, Aziraphale notices that Crowley has a SoulMark, so he starts researching to help him find The One God's put aside for him.Meanwhile, Crowley discovers Aziraphale's SoulMark and will do anything to help him find his SoulMate.They are so intent on helping the other find their Mate, they don't realise they carry the matching SoulMark behind their necks.Or: That Soulmate AU where they don't realise they're eachother's Soulmate. Warning: Heavy dose of Pining, and Tension, and Repressed Feelings.





	1. Finding the Mark

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by authenticaussi3's tumblr post: Soulmate AU: "Maybe I don't have a Soulmate ): "
> 
> Unbeta'd, any and all mistakes are mine.

The morning after the body swap found them asleep in their usual chairs at the back of the shop. As always, an empty bottle and two glasses from the night before lined the coffee table. Aziraphale woke to the sight of Crowley draped around his chair. Each of his limbs was pointing in a different direction, taking up all the space in his corner. When he woke he would surely have difficulty walking, but that was just Crowley on any given day, the angel thought.

Getting up from his plush chair he went to the kitchen to prepare a tea the traditional way. There’s something in the little rituals that made the world feel right again. He carried the two cups and left them on the table, where he miracled some fresh pastries from the bakery onto a plate (at the same time, the proper price was added to the Bakery’s till, with a little extra to make up for the inconvenience).

Sipping his tea he watched as Crowley roused from sleep, all his joints clearly protesting. Wincing, Crowley sit up and then stood, stretching and popping back everything into place. He was watching him working the stiffness in his neck away when Aziraphale noticed it. A serpentine arrow resting on top of Crowley’s spine. A SoulMark.

 

He woke to the smell of tea and pastries, but when he tried to reach for his breakfast, his limbs screamed. “I shouldn’t sleep in that position” he thought to himself, while getting up and stretching the pain away. He turned to his angel but the Good Morning died in his throat. Aziraphale was white as a sheet, and that was enough to set all his alarms off.

“Hey, Angel, are you ok?” Asked Crowley, in the softest voice he was capable of.

“Why, yes, my dear! Nothing’s wrong, everything’s tickety-boo!” Came the rushed response. The Angel shot up and went to the kitchen, to wash his mug, probably. He left in a huff and left Crowley quite intrigued, but he was content for the time being with his freshly baked scones and the miraculously still hot tea.

It had been well over twenty minutes and Aziraphale still hadn’t returned, so Crowley headed to the kitchen to ask him what was all that fuss about. He found him sitting on a table, poring over a book about… Soulmates? He was going to ask about it when something caught his eye. Sitting on the base of Aziraphale’s neck, between the first and second vertebrae, a sinuous arrow stared back at him. Where only yesterday had been nothing but soft, unmarked skin (and he would know, he had worn that skin mere hours ago, he still felt tingly all over). But there it was. A SoulMark. 

Fear gripped his stomach, as he understood that face back at breakfast. He grabbed a chair and sat by Aziraphale, who rose a fevered gaze to meet his eyes.

“So. You’re doing some research? On the… The…” He gestured vaguely to his neck, too scared to put his fingers anywhere near the angel's.

“On the Mark, yes”

Laying on the table beside the discarded books, a human body diagram with a cross on its neck stared back at him.

“You know, I thought only humans could have them, I would never have imagined… You know.”

“Indeed, there’s no recorded instance of any… non-human being having been granted a Soulmark, After all, only humans are known to have souls.”

Crowley sat in silence after that. It made sense, really. It would stand to reason that God would assign Aziraphale a Soulmate. After overcoming the Armageddon, the Angel deserved someone that would love him inconditionally. “And me… I’m just a demon” he thought. “I don’t have a Soul, in the same way I lost my Grace when I Fell.” His mind kept circling such thoughts, barely noticing the Angel moving around him.

 

Closing the book, Aziraphale went to look for another one, that might contain the answers he was searching for.

On one hand, he felt his heart swell with pride. God had recognised Crowley’s part in the stopping of the Armageddon, and had gifted him with the most precious gift of all. A Soulmate. Which by extension meant that he had a Soul. He had known since the beginning that Crowley was different. His love for Humanity surpassed Aziraphale’s own ineffable love for all creatures, so ingrained in his core. Maybe that was why he had always been drawn to the demon. He was more than just a Demon. He had a Soul. He should’ve known, really. Crowley had always been too nice for a Demon. Too kind for an alleged force of absolute Evil. “God really is ineffable” Aziraphale thought as he shuffled through the books. “I should have realised before, but I was blind to Her Wonders. As we all are, until She reveals them for us.”

“On the other hand,” He thought as he stood behind Crowley, memorising the size and shape of the Mark “I dread to part with him”.

His fingers burned, wanting to feel the pulsing of the mark under his fingertips. He’d been inside that body just the day before, he could still feel the taste of the air on that forked tongue. And just when he thought he Knew Crowley inside and out, he shook those beliefs away and revealed a new façade he’d never known was there. Pulling a pen to paper, he sketched the Mark, and left it on the table, on top of the diagram. He’d help him find the Soulmate God Herself had selected for him, even if it tore his heart to do so. Crowley deserved no less than his best effort.


	2. Spot the Mark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After gathering all they could from the books they had, Aziraphale decides to take a more direct approach to finding Crowley's Soulmate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A second chapter! Horray!  
> I hope you'll enjoy this one, it's a bit longer than the first, and I tried to squeeze loads of one-sided longing into it as well!

Crowley didn’t notice Aziraphale coming and going, but he did notice the scrap of paper that was placed on top of the diagram he was staring at –even though he’d stopped seeing it long ago–. It was a drawing of the Mark on the angel’s neck, but it looked wrong. And Wrong, but Crowley didn’t want to think about that.

“Angel, I think you've drawn it backwards”

“Nonsense, my dear!” Aziraphale grabbed it and held it up in front of them, his gaze subtly going from Crowley’s Mark to the drawing. “It’s exactly the same. The lines aren’t as clean as the real thing, but I’m sure you’ll excuse me that! After all, this is God’s work, anything I draw will surely pale in comparison” he added, looking at it from different angles.

“I’m telling you, this curve should turn the other way, I would know.”

“Of course, my dear. But bear in mind that what you see differs in what I see. One of us uses a mirror to see the Mark, and the other can see it just fine. So trust me on this.”

That only served to further convince Crowley that he was in the right. He was the one who could see the mark without needing a mirror, after all. But somehow, he wasn’t in the mood for teasing Aziraphale about that. He was feeling quite down about the prospect of finding his angel’s Soulmate, so he took his glasses off and let his head rest on the table.

The sunlight played with Aziraphale’s curls, making them shine like a halo. He comitted to burning the beauty of that image in his mind forever. The way the rays bounced off the angel’s head, how his lips moved, mouthing the words he was reading. The softness in his face as shaped by the morning light. How he’d miss this. Too soon would come the day when he and Aziraphale would part. He didn’t want to lose his angel, not after everything they’d gone through! They’d averted the Apocalypse and survived their respective judgements, yet somehow this felt a thousand times worse. “Drat this Soulmate business!” he hissed, hitting his forehead repeatedly against the table.

When a flock of hair covered half the book he was going through, Aziraphale’s gaze rose again from the pages. He was about to chastise Crowley when he saw his unguarded stare piercing through him. If he were to move his hand, he could easily caress his cheek, just like the sun was doing. Frozen in place, he only broke out of it when he heard Crowley’s hiss.

Of course! Here he was, going through useless, outdated books –only in light of the recent developments. They were very nice books in all other areas, and very accurate about human-human Soulmate bonds, thank you very much– and Crowley was forced to sit through all of that, pining for a Soulmate he had less than a century to find!

They needed to take the search out to the streets.

“Come on, Crowley, sitting here isn’t helping us. Let’s go out for a while. We could grab lunch and eat it by the duck pond” He said, trying to lighten the mood. However, what he really meant was “Let’s go and crowd-watch, maybe we’ll find your Soulmate! At any rate, fresh air and food will cheer me up. And there’s no time to lose with books, when God’s assigned person for you is out there somewhere!”

Sadly, even after thousands of years of getting attuned to reading between Aziraphale’s lines, what Crowley understood was more along the lines of: “Let’s leave the bookshop, and go find my Soulmate! No time to lose with books, when God’s assigned person for me is out there somewhere!”. He would rather dunk his head into a Holy Water basin, but that wasn’t an option when the angel’s happiness was at stake. So he went.

 

Once they hit the streets, Aziraphale began to fret. He didn’t want to go to St. James to look for Crowley’s soulmate. He wanted to go there to share an icecream with him and feed the ducks, watching the day pass them by.

He was settling in the car when a sudden idea overcame him. “Now, I know I said we could head to the Park, but I was thinking… How about we try this new cafeteria by the Thames? I hear they have a nice terrace from which you can see the passersby from a vantage point, and the most delicious churros in the city.”

“Right-o” answered Crowley, not really minding where they were going as long as it wasn’t one of _their_ places. He would help Aziraphale find his Soulmate, but he’d be damned if he wanted them to meet at St James’, or worse, at the Ritz. He felt a pang of nostalgia for all those nights spent there, drinking and fraternising, as the angel had called it once. No, he was not going to share that with whoever that Soulmate was. He didn’t want to share Him either, but that wasn’t his decision to make. So he drove across the city as slow as he could without raising the angel's suspicions, until they got to their destination. If that person was meant to be there, they’d surely wait around for Aziraphale. He would, at any rate.

 

“Just our luck, look at that balcony over there, dear! And it offers the best view of the river!” He chimed, trying to sound happier than he felt. “And of the passerbys as well, of course”. “Yeah, we’ve been quite lucky” answered Crowley on reflex, for both knew luck had nothing to do with it.

Sprawling on the chair as if it were his throne, Crowley spent more time watching the way the sun got caught between Aziraphale’s curls, than actually searching for the Soulmate. In fact, he didn’t think they deserved the capital letter after all. Just a God-appointed human that would be greatly outlived and never forgotten. So instead of watching the people, he just sat under the hot summer sun. After a while of leisurely watching Aziraphale, he began cataloguing the differences between the way the sunlight danced through the angel's hair when they were in the shop, and the way direct midday sunlight made them shine like stars. With a start he realised he couldn’t give him up. He hadn’t done it for Heaven during the Endtimes, he sure wasn’t going to now that they really were on Their side. He wouldn’t.

“The thing about humans is… I’m not trying to rain on your parade, it’s just… They have short lifespans. Really short. For people like you and me, a hundred years is gone in a blink! And whoever it is, they’ll have used up probably a third of their life by the time we find them.” he stopped then, as the waiter set in front of them an oversized iced tea and a hot chocolate with a platter of churros. Before Aziraphale could argue, Crowley started again “And that’s not even an easy place to have the Mark on. How are we supposed to see everyone’s neck? Sure, it’s summer and it’s a hot day, but some people still wear light coats, or hats… Or look over there. That one, with the long hair. How can we know if they’re them, if we can’t see it? We can’t check every passerby, not even from up here!” He was running out of points to make, and Aziraphale saw the opening and countered. “My dear, you cannot lose faith so fast! Finding one’s Soulmate isn’t an easy task, but it’s not impossible either! Do you really think that God would give false hope to humanity? No, my dear. They’re closer than you believe, I can almost feel it! She would never pick two Perfect Partners, give them knowledge of the other’s existence and then have them never meet.” He punctuated the end of his argument with a bite. The truth was, Aziraphale wasn’t feeling their proximity as much as fearing it. Every person that walked by them could be the one to take his demon away, and that took the enjoyment out of those delicious churros. He made an effort of checking all of them, but it was taking its toll on him. 

 

They sat there for a few hours, silently. Aziraphale watched the people, and Crowley watched Aziraphale.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think? Do you want to bash their heads in yet? God, how can someone be SO THICK.
> 
> This is my second ever chaptered fic, so I'm not sure if it's coherent with the overall tone of the previous chapter. So you tell me (if you have the time), because any experienced fanfic reader knows this things, just like Aziraphale knows his books and Crowley his wines.
> 
> Thank you for making it this far, and bear with me, there's still two chapters left, and the next one is SO. TENSE!
> 
> You know what to do, do it with style!


	3. Missing the Mark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinnertime is coming soon, and Aziraphale discovers the loveliest restaurant where they simply must go.
> 
> But the evening is about to get more interesting... And confusing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to chapter 3!
> 
> I hope you're pleased with the dessert I cooked up for you!

The shadows were growing longer and they’d lost track of time. Aziraphale had long since stopped really watching people, and was simply relishing his time in the demon’s presence. Sipping his still hot chocolate, he saw a small, intimate restaurant at the other side of the Thames.

“Well, would you look at the hour? I think a bit of a walk would do us good, and I have seen a lovely little restaurant opening right now...”

Crowley, happy to go wherever his angel would take him, rose to his feet not even waiting for the sentence to finish.

"Well then, lead the way!"He said, already halfway out. Aziraphale left way too much money on the table and all but run to the demon's side.

  
They walked along the river, stopping here and there to watch the ducks. Crowley would have sworn that they had, at some point, fed "those two over there" at the park, and wondered again if they might be spies. Aziraphale thought he was being paranoid, and that "there's no need for constant vigilance anymore, dear" but he relished the way the demon had grabbed his arm to get his attention, and stood there for a minute humoring him, if only to keep that connection.

Slowly, Crowley's hand dropped from Aziraphale's arm and was firmly shoved inside those the pocket of his too-tight pants. There was no time to dwell upon trousers, and the possible lack thereof, as they had reached their destination.  
  
The place was small, cozy, and looked nothing like the Ritz, which suit both of them just fine.

 

They were enjoying stealing eachother's dessert -sharing, Aziraphale would say- when the atmosphere shifted.

"Don't turn around, but I think I saw someone that could be them" said Crowley, scooping a spoonful of strawberries and cream and raising it to Aziraphale's face "Quick, eat this and check their neck, they'll walk behind me in five, four, three..." Aziraphale's lips closed around the spoon, and Crowley lost track of the countdown. He could feel the angel’s breath on his fingertips, and their eyes locked for what felt like hours. None of them dared to move.

Aziraphale let the spoon slid out of his mouth, savouring the last remains of cream. Crowley, frozen in place, let his gaze stray down from his angel's eyes, until they rested on his lips, where a speck of cream remained.

Without realising, he tilted forward, scooped it with the spoon and fed it to Aziraphale, who dazedly licked the spoon clean.

Crowley's fingers went slack and the clatter of the spoon against the clean plate broke their reverie.

Both of them realised then that the restaurant was empty, and that they were alone. They rose from their chairs in sync and left the restaurant. As they walked across the city, their minds kept going back to what had just happened. Forgotten as well were the dirty dishes, just as the restaurant forgot about them. When morning came, all the tables were clean, and no one but them remembered what had happened.

In the cold of the night, Crowley could still feel the vibration of the spoon as the angel hummed. His fingers felt tingly where they'd been caressed by Aziraphale's breath. The way his breath hitched and how his heart threatened to break free from his chest and run towards Aziraphale. He kept seeing flashes of those lips closing around the spoon, in that nice and neat way the angel did everything, and the flutter of those lashes as the sweet and acid mix of strawberries and cream coated his tongue. How he ached to taste those strawberries now.

Aziraphale could not make sense of what had just happened. One minute he was tasting a bit of Crowley's devil food cake and the next he was being fed a spoonful of his own dessert. When his lips closed around the spoon, he could feel the heat of his demon's skin pulsing against him. His gaze traveled from that hand to its owner's face, who was regarding him longingly, his jaw slack and his pupils dilated. The contrast between the cold dessert and the heat of Crowley's proximity, of the moment's intimacy, was enough to draw a moan from the depths of his being. For a moment, only they existed, until the spoon was clean and the connection broke. But then, he felt the cool silver spoon run across his lower lip, and he all but devoured the new offering.  
The clatter of the spoon against the table first and then the floor shook him from that state, from the captivity of those slitted eyes, from those ever tempting slightly parted lips.

They kept walking in silence, and once they reached the bookshop each sat on a chair, each lost too deep within their thoughts to even realise they'd gotten home.

 

He'd woken up to see Crowley, as always, draped around his favourite chair. The demon's left arm and leg were draped around the backrest, providing a perfect view of the demon's backside... And of his soulmark. Which had grown.

Where there was a simple, sinuous arrow before, now were two clouds framing it.

It looked perfect against Crowley's skin, and it ripped his heart apart.

Who was he, a simple angel, to go against the Will of God? Somewhere out there, someone had been hand-picked by Her for him. Someone would have the privilege of running their fingers across his soulmark and feel theirs hum in synchrony. Some human was losing valuable time of their short lifespawn without Crowley, because he'd been hogging him. He couldn't stop himself from recalling the past evening, and an ache began to grow in his chest. Knowing that soon he'd lose his demon to someone else. Knowing that their time together was coming to an end, and that he would never forgive himself for keeping Crowley and his Soulmate apart. But that was exactly what he wanted. He wanted to keep the demon forever. He wanted to hold his hand while walking down the street. He wanted to miracle an umbrella to protect him from the London rain. To run his fingers and his lips over every inch of his body. He Wanted. He Desired. He was Coveting what was not and would never be his. Feeling a stab of guilt and sorrow in his chest, he rose from his chair and set to prepare the best breakfast he could, for Crowley. And for Crowley, he would put his feelings in a box, seal the lid, and help him find his soulmate.

"That's what he deserves" Azirapale told himself; "Someone who loves him as much as he deserves to be loved".


	4. Hit the Mark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The change in the SoulMark brings a much needed conversation, and confrontation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up!

On the following morning, Crowley awoke to Aziraphale's sad, gentle smile, along with a cup of tea and a couple of biscuits.

"The Mark has changed", said Aziraphale, trying to keep the anguish from his voice.

Still lost in the previous evening's events, the angel's words felt like a syringe of holy water plunged straight to his heart.

“How do you mean?” Asked Crowley, getting up and circling him. He stood behind him for a couple of seconds, eyeing the new mark, before collapsing back again in front of his breakfast. “It’s- It’s different. It has two… clouds around it now. It’s not only an arrow anymore. Here, I updated the sketch”. The paper changed hands, and Crowley stared at it for a long time, and sighed. There was no running away from this. He didn’t want to risk it and let the soulmark grow until it became painful, or something worse. He had heard stories. He didn't want to try if any of them were true on his angel.

Tossing the paper on the tea table, he made a choice. “Tell you what, let’s make a list.”

He miracled a couple of notebooks and two fountain pens out of thin air, and gave one of each to Aziraphale.

“What do we know so far?”

After a couple of seconds, he continued. “The Mark appeared the day after our Judgement, right? Before and after that we were together, so let’s make a list of prospective people we met that day, and then we compare them.”

“But that’s not how it works with humans, Crowley”

“I know that, Angel, but we need to start somewhere, don’t we?”

After a while of staring anywhere but at the Angel, thinking of names and crossing them from his mental list, Crowley forced himself to put pen to paper and start listing the people Aziraphale had interacted with during the past week, chronologically, until that morning. In the end, Crowley’s list looked something like this:

  * Anathema
  * Mme Tracy
  * Shadwell
  * Newt
  * Beelzebub
  * The bus driver
  * Dagon (in Hell, inside my body)
  * Hastur (he cringed writing that one)
  * The ice-cream vendor
  * The lost tourist with the hat
  * Yesterday’s waiter
  * ?????
  * ~~me~~



Aziraphale’s list looked mostly the same, but instead of crossing himself from the list, he’d miracled the ink away. He knew his name was there, but he hoped Crowley wouldn’t notice.

He was so focused watching the Demon, he still hadn't read the list he’d been given. In the unnatural light of their kitchen, Crowley’s hair looked almost alive. Aziraphale didn’t have the strength to go through with this anymore. He just wanted to remain frozen in this moment forever, sharing breakfast with Crowley and watch him exist until the end of time. He pored over the short list. He was unsurprised to see their lists matched, even though his had listed angels instead of demons. "Why demons? He's known them forever" he thought. He then discarded whoever was their waiter yesterday, for the mark had already appeared and they didn't have it, but his breath hitched when he got to the last line.

“Crowley?” He asked. “Crowley dear, why have you written “me” on your list?” Those golden eyes rose from the sheet and stared right into his own “You know you cannot-”

“I cannot what, Angel?” Retorted the demon. “I cannot what?” He repeated, more forcefully. “Are you denying me Hope?” in a strangled voice, he continued. “Are you really telling me, after six thousand years of going too fast for you, after all our evenings, the strolls in the park, the… The generations of ducks we’ve fed! After facing the bloody END OF THE WORLD WITH YOU ANGEL!” the pen exploded in his hand, but neither cared. “After all of that, can’t I have just a sliver of hope left? Is that too much to ask for? That you let me cling to the hope of an eternity with you, at least until we find your soulmate?” He ended, pleading. "Please, let me have this, Angel..."

Somewhere there was something decidedly odd about what Crowley was saying, but Aziraphale was too far gone to care about that, so he snapped back at him instead. “Do you think this is not hard for me? Finding out, on the very first day of the rest of our lives, the first and only time in our existence that we were free from heavenly or hellish intervention, and this Mark appears?” The dam broke, and the words started flowing, mixed with tears. “To see that God had granted you a Soulmate as a reward for saving the world? That you had been granted everything you deserve, just when I was ready to give you all? To resent God for giving you her greatest Gift, and to resent myself in turn for doubting Her? To help you find them, whoever they are, so that you can share at least a fraction of their life? To fear the day your human soulmate will die, and you’ll be left heartbroken for all eternity? And yet, even though I would rather keep you to myself, I’m still helping you find them, to grant you that smidge of happiness! Even though mine has no place in this world! Even though My hopes and wishes have lost all meaning!” Aziraphale paused then, gasping for air. “And even then, even then!” he whispered, the words weakened by his own tears, “you cannot take this seriously enough. You cannot be... your own Soulmate, Crowley.” he finished, collapsing on his chair.

Crowley sat there, awed by Aziraphale's speech. After a beat, he moved his chair closer to Aziraphale's, and gently placed a hand on his arm.

"My own…?” He pauses, searching for the right words, and the courage to say them "Angel, I'm a demon. You and I both know I don't have a Soul. The fact that you've been assigned a Soulmate doesn't mean that I get one too. I really appreciate the effort, but can we please focus on your Soulmate, which is someone that we know exists, instead of my hypothetical one?"

"Hypothetical? And what's this then, chopped lung?" Retorted Aziraphale, miracling two mirrors for Crowley to see.

Crowley couldn't even correct the wrong idiom, for he found himself staring at Aziraphale's Soulmark, neatly sitting in the reflection of his own neck. The same wiggly arrow, with fluffy wings on each side.

"How...?" He ran his fingers over the Mark, feeling the slightly bumped skin for the first time. “How did you do that?” He looked into the angel’s eyes, bewildered hope filling his chest.

"I haven’t done anything, it changed on its own! If anything, this is God’s reminder that we should keep looking for them” Then, with a suspicious glare, he added “Why do you look as this is all news for you? What on Earth did you think we were doing yesterday, my dear?"

Crowley wordlessly took the mirror from Aziraphale's left hand, and put it behind the Angel's neck. Aziraphale stood confused, so Crowley let his left hand envelope the angel's right, that was still holding the other mirror, and pulled it up. And so the angel could see his mark, a mirror image of the one on Crowley’s neck.

“I thought we were looking for _your_ soulmate”

  

They stood in that awkward semi-embrace for a while, Aziraphale's eyes going from the mark in the mirror to Crowley's hopeful smile, unblinking, mouth agape.

All the interactions of the past day, and some of the more relevant for the last millenia came rushing at once and flooded Aziraphale’s mind. Dropping the mirror they were holding he engulfed him in a hug, but their hands remained entwined.

"We really are on our own side now" mumbled Aziraphale against the demon’s shirt.

"And we can be certain that God aproves of... This" Crowley added, raising their joined hands.

"Of Us, my dear".

"Of Us", he echoed, resting his forehead against Aziraphale's, breathing in his angelic essence (and that subtle hint of cologne). "Us".

Aziraphale raised his hand to cup Crowley's cheek, and he leaned into the soft palm. To be able to touch him, so freely, filled him with awe. Meeting his eyes, he stood on his toes and whispered "Us" brushing his fingertips across their Mark. Crowley purred, and the angel closed the gap to claim his Soulmate's lips for what would be the first of many times that day, and for the rest of their Eternity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for getting to the end! And what a ride it was... I hope this ending met your expectations, and made it worth the wait.
> 
> Thank you all who have been cheering me up from the comment section, and thank you all who have reached this after it's marked complete. I love you all and I command you to come and scream with me (or at me) via your preferred social network!
> 
> You know what to do, do it with style!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for making it to the end!
> 
> I'm already working on the chapter 2/4, but I'll be extatic to read your thoughts on the matter! Do you like it so far? 
> 
> You know what to do, do it with style!


End file.
